1. The blades of India and the spears are your close companions.

    And the fates are your helpers against your foes.

  2. And lofty achievements are gardens for your gaze, and praise—

    when its blossoms delight—is your fragrant basil.

  3. Glory laughed in your age, knowing

    that your age would lay at its feet all it loved.

  4. O prince, no inflammation has afflicted your

    eyes—far be it from them—nor your eyelids.

  5. Rather, they have mirrored your noble conduct, so that

    their standing in greatness might equal your own.

  6. For they redden like your sword amid

    terror, and grow clear as your beneficence is pure.

Sol 6.1